


How to Lie, Cheat, and Steal in 5 Easy Steps

by cleverqueen



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Dead Body, Episode: s01e10 Progeny, Episode: s01e11 The Magnificent Eight, Friendship, Gen, Kasnia Conglomerate, Mentor Leonard Snart, Mentor/Protégé, Mentors, brief mention of Oliver Queen as the Green Arrow, coldwave if you squint, creative uses for the ATOM suit mentioned, heists en tu idioma, remember that Per Degaton isn't actually nice, spanish breakup songs, the author gets really excited about camels, utopian worlds that are really dystopias
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-06-08 08:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6846160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleverqueen/pseuds/cleverqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Per Degaton needs a new mentor. It's Len.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>“Get a new mentor, kid,” Mister Snart says. The older man’s goggles are strapped around his eyes, reflecting Per’s own youthful face rather than the man’s emotions. </em></p><p> </p><p>  <em>“Are you offering?” Per asks. </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't remember the last time I posted this many stories in an active fandom. Exciting! 
> 
> Also, I'm aware that, technically, the grammar here is all wrong. Per should refer to Len as "Mr. Snart" not "Mister Snart," but I wanted to write it out to demonstrate that he thinks the whole word and that it's part of a full title, as opposed to how he called Savage "Vandal."

Per Degaton has never been outside the Kasnia Conglomerate. He knows the rest of the world is miserable with overcrowding and underfeeding. He knows the desolation outside his father’s borders is matched only by the cringing patheticness of the people who inhabit it.

So this green riverbank is surprisingly lovely. Clear blue water flows beside a bank of springy grass. Usually, grass is monitored. No one can walk on it without calling the Palmer justice bots. To step on a garden plot would cause harm and ruin Kasnia’s aesthetic. But here, outside of Kasnia, Per and his kidnapper trample on innumerable blades. They crush precious nature beneath their boots.

The blades bounce back. The bank remains vibrantly green. His trampling has done no permanent damage.

If it weren’t for the kidnapper, Per would bend down to touch a blade with his fingers. He’d done it once in a park and been scolded by Vandal. Would these wilder, hardier cousins be as sticky and bendy as the others? _If it weren’t for the kidnapper._

The kidnapper is an interesting contradiction. He stole Per from his guards with a very effective plan, but he hasn’t received any benefit from it. His claim to be returning Per to his father for money is clearly false. (There is no one here to make a prisoner exchange.) He wears clean and newly fabricated clothes, but not in any style common to the Kasnia Conglomerate. (Where else could he be from and still have civilized clothing?) He owns a weapon, but is too hesitant to fire it.

Vandal says Per is coming along in his interpersonal evaluation skills, and it must be true. Because he can tell the terrorist kidnapper isn’t going to murder him on this beautiful riverbank that shouldn’t exist outside of Kasnia.

Per tells him so, and the kidnapper whittles on about all his reasons for doing the thing that he isn’t going to do.

Per steps closer to the gun that will not hurt him. He opens his mouth to mock the kidnapper further because he can not respect adults simply for being older than him, but his jaw closes when someone else beats him to the words.

“I thought we’d been over this, Rip.” Another strange adult emerges from the ship they’d taken. He has hair like Per’s own, cropped short to guard against lice. He wears a parka to guard against the springtime breeze, and crushes the grass under his feet with heavy boots. Streamlined goggles obscure his eyebrows from above, and he dangles a gun the size of Per’s chest.

The kidnapper whirls, turning his back to Per like he doesn’t believe the boy is a threat. But the newcomer has an eye on Per and a finger on his gun’s trigger. Besides, Per _doesn’t_ know how to swim—nor does he trust any microorganisms in the non-Kasnian water—so where would he go?

“Mister Snart.” The kidnapper straightens his coat, back of it flapping in the breeze, as if gathering his dignity in its lines. Vandal would have laughed at the amateurishness. “I do recall that killing the child was your idea.”

Per could believe it. The calculation in Mister Snart’s all-seeing eyes and sneering lip are different than the kidnapper’s. The kidnapper was playing at being bad. Mister Snart is serious about doing what must be done. He has the bearing of a man who _follows through_ , unlike Per’s father who is forever giving in to the other shareholders. Even the _minority_ shareholders.

Mister Snart sighs, a put-upon and nearly tangible thing. “I suggested it so you’d realize what a bad idea it was.”

The kidnapper straightens further. “Yes, well.”

Per rolls his eyes and catches Mister Snart doing the same.

The kidnapper brings his gun up to point at his friend. “I do what I must,” he says. “Please don’t make me shoot you as well.”

“Only if you’re still planning on killing the kid.” The dangling gun the size of Per’s chest comes up to mirror the kidnapper’s pose, and Mister Snart makes a cocking motion with his head that Per interprets as an instruction to get out of the way. “I don’t do kids or capes unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Per has heard reasoning like this before about avoiding children, but he has to ask. “What is a ‘cape’?”

The kidnapper whirls around, coattails flying, as though he’d forgotten Per was there until he spoke. _Idiot._ With the kidnapper sufficiently distracted, Mister Snart shoots him from behind.

A white frost settles on the kidnapper’s head and shoulders. His brown eyes widen, then slam shut just before the frost creeps over the front of his face. He slips to the grass, laid out cold.

This Mister Snart could easily be a worse enemy than the failed kidnapper, but he also delivered Per from the villain’s clutches so Per decides to speak with him and determine his threat-level. “What is a ‘cape’?” he asks again.

Mister Snart stalks closer, gun at his side with trigger finger ready. He nods to Per and kicks over the body until the kidnapper lays face up. “Capes are law enforcers who dress up in outlandish costumes so that people will recognize them but no one will know their real identities.”

“Why is that worse than killing a regular law enforcer?”

Mister Snart smirks at him. “What _is_ Savage teaching you?” When the man pauses, Per’s heartbeat speeds and his mouth firms; this man _will_ treat him with respect. But Per doesn’t need to force the issue. Mister Snart is already explaining. “Killing law enforcement of any kind is asking for trouble. They’re a gang with a lot of friends on their side. But capes have more than just friends. Capes have public opinion on their side. You kill a cape, and the LEOs come down on you, but they get help from every Jimmy and Janey on the street who sees you picking up your groceries.”

Per has never cared much for public opinion. It changes with every sale of a single stock share and is easily led by the technologists who write titles and descriptions for the enhanced reality glasses.

Mister Snart shakes his head, reading some of that carefully hidden derision in Per’s face. Vandal always tells him his childish good looks will expire someday, and that he should take advantage while he can. But perhaps that is more warning than pleasure at the circumstance. “Make Savage teach you about branding and empire-building,” he says, “if you trust him to do it.”

Why wouldn’t Per trust Vandal? He’s been an exemplary tutor and much more effective than Per’s father.

On the ground, the kidnapper is shivering and rolling about.  Mister Snart toes him in the side. “Return the kid to his father, Rip,” says Mister Snart. “I was more impressed with you when I thought this little trip was a plan to show him life outside the Conglomerate.”

For the first time since he was a little kid, Per wonders what life outside the Conglomerate might be like.

Per watches the kidnapper lever himself off the ground. By the time the defeated man is standing, Mister Snart has disappeared. Per leads the way back to the ship which he’s sure will take him home this time.

*

If Per wondered what had happened to Mister Snart with his wise lessons and effective gun, his questions are soon answered. It’s after an uncomfortable ride with his equally uncomfortable kidnapper that he finds himself again on the wrong side of the kidnapper’s gun.

_Again._

Per knows the man won’t kill him. The man also knows he won’t shoot. Even if he wanted to, Mister Snart has firmly put the kidnapper in his place. He wouldn’t dare.

But his father doesn’t know it, and his father is determined to put Per’s safety above the Kasnia Conglomerate’s might. His father needs to crush this rabble, before other troublemakers get terrible ideas. He needs to kill them before word can spread of Tor Degaton’s weakness. They can’t afford sentiment, not at their level of power.

Per lets the kidnapper move his head to the side with the gun barrel. It gives him a better view of Mister Snart, poised for victory but paused like a frozen frame. On the battlefield, robots and soldiers bear marks of ice and fire.

But the Kasnians aren’t beaten, and Vandal has leverage. His dagger mirrors the kidnapper’s gun, pushing into the neck of a skinny blonde. She looks delicate and angry, her long hair flowing around her shoulders and Vandal’s hand.

Of course Per’s father wants to make a trade. _Of course._ It’s the worst thing he could possibly do, so _of course_ he’s doing it. “Father, no.” Per is in no danger, and the Conglomerate’s solvency depends on confidence from its shareholders.

But Father doesn’t listen. Not even when Vandal tries to explain that this is a foolish course of action. Can Vandal see that the kidnapper has no plans to kill him? It wouldn’t matter. Vandal knows what’s best for the Conglomerate. He’s very forward thinking. Still, Per squints into the sunlight, trying to determine if Vandal has observed all the body cues and facial tics that mean Per is perfectly safe.

Vandal isn’t even looking at him. His gaze is fixed on the woman with the wings, nowhere near Per and his captor.

And, of course, Father continues to make his bad choices. The trade bargain is struck: Per for the blonde woman. On the way to his father’s side, Per walks behind Mister Snart.

“Get a new mentor, kid,” Mister Snart says. His voice is too quiet for Vandal to hear it, so this is true advice, not something to shake Per’s long time tutor.

It’s true that Vandal was willing to sacrifice Per for the good of the Conglomerate, but isn’t that what all shareholders are supposed to do? Excepting Per’s idiot father, that is. Though... is Vandal’s position as Per’s tutor more important for Kasnia than his shares? After all, Per is set to inherit all the Degaton stocks as well as his dead mother’s, in trust for when he turns nineteen.

Vandal is waiting beside Per’s father. His long hair moves in the wind, clumping and easy to pull. His glare still rests on the winged woman, not on Per or his father.

Per comes to a halt a few steps past Mister Snart. His fingers are cold, but that’s just the springtime wind on his gloveless hands.

Vandal _hasn’t_ taught him about branding. For all he speaks of empires and their differences from corporations, he hasn’t explained how to build one either.

Per turns and looks up at Mister Snart. The older man’s goggles are strapped around his eyes, reflecting Per’s own youthful face rather than the man’s emotions. “Are you offering?” Per asks. He tries to emulate Mister Snart’s delivery, slow and like he doesn’t care what the answer is.

Mister Snart uses his left hand to tug his goggles up, right hand still clasping his weapon. His blue eyes crinkle at the sides. “Yeah, sure, kid. I’ll be your mentor.” He brings his left hand down to rest on Per’s shoulder and steer him back towards a silvery entrance ramp to a ship of unknown design.

Back on the battlefield, Father shouts, “Per!”

Vandal orders, “Stop them! At all costs.”

Mister Snart pushes Per in front of him and pauses at the top of the ramp. His goggles are back down, and his gun vibrates loudly. “Time to get out of here,” he calls to his companions.

The man who looks like Sidney Palmer in a helmet is already inside. Then the winged woman, an older man holding hands with a younger one whose body was just on fire, the blonde woman, and the kidnapper.

“Mick!” Mister Snart yells. He sounds like Per’s mother did when she caught him about to wash the cat. His gun thumps three times in quick succession and he yells again. “ _Mick!_ ”

The biggest man Per has ever seen bounds up the walkway. “I love a good fight,” he says, all gravel in his throat. He’s got a gun like Mister Snart’s, but red, and a tread that no one could miss. His mouth smiles, but his eyes flash hate at everyone around him. Where Mister Snart is calculating and cold, this man pushes heat. When this man’s eyes meet Mister Snart’s, he ought to cool off or make Mister Snart melt, but instead they both become _more_. Harder, colder, hotter, angrier. And something else. _Sadder?_

The cheerful man who looks like Sidney Palmer holds out a hand to Per. “Hello, I’m Ray Palmer, you may have heard of me.”

What is Per supposed to do with that hand? He looks to Mister Snart for clandestine guidance, and is rewarded by an arm around his shoulders in an overly familiar way. “Don’t traumatize my kid, Ray.”

The gray haired man further back chokes. “ _Traumatize_ your _kid_? What are you doing with baby Hitler anyway?”

The man he’d been holding hands with whaps him in the shoulder. “You can’t call a kid that where he can _hear_ you.”

So “Baby Hitler” is an insult then. Per isn’t sure what it means, but he knows Mister Snart will explain it. He hopes so at least. Because he’s just left everything he’s ever known and allowed this people to take him. There, at the back of the crowd, is one more man that Per hadn’t seen before. His kidnapper.

“ _My kid._ ” Mister Snart repeats himself and Per’s stomach unclenches.

The woman who used to have wings reaches out like she wants to pet him, but shoves the hand into a pocket before she has the chance. Good. She doesn’t have the right to touch him. “I thought we’d decided to leave him in his own time,” she says. “Didn’t Gideon say that there’s no difference if we take him away?”

The blonde nods. “This ship is no place for a child.”

Mister Snart laughs at that, and Per can feel it in the hand on his shoulder. “So you were willing to maroon or kill him, but not to teach him a better way?” He gently shoves Per toward a doorway that must lead further into the ship. “None of you have to worry about him. He’s mine now, not your problem.”

The big man—Mick—booms a matching laugh, though it doesn’t sound like he’s actually amused. He shoulders Mister Snart out of his way to beat them to the doorway. “You’re lucky, kid. For now.”

Well, that sounded ominous.


	2. How to Steal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lessons in thievery, courtesy of Klepto. (But is that really the lesson?)

Per curls up on a thin mattress on top of a storage unit. The metal wall is cool on his back.

There’s nothing in his storage unit. When he took off with Mister Snart, he didn’t have anything with him other than the clothes he’d been kidnapped in. Now he has his own room, similarly Spartan to his room at home, but nothing to put in it.

Mister Snart dropped him off here and said he’d be back soon. Adults always say “soon” like it means anything.

He’s breathing fast, letting that warm him because he _doesn’t even have a coat_ , when Mister Snart comes in. “Whoa, kid,” he says. And his arms close around Per’s, turning him until his chest curves where Per’s does. They’re a seed and a shell, and Mister Snart’s heart thuds against Per’s back, while his right hand holds Per’s own heart in place.

“Just breathe with me,” says Mister Snart. “Inhale two three, exhale two three.”

And Per does because this is his chosen mentor so he can’t decide not to obey.

As Per’s breathing slows to match his mentor’s, so does his heart rate. His forehead cools, and his fingers don’t tingle as much as they did a moment ago. “I don’t have any clothes,” he whispers into his and Mister Snart’s now-joined hands.

He feels Mister Snart’s mouth curling up against his shorn hair. “Then let’s go steal some.”

“Right now?” Per raises his head and almost smacks it into Mister Snart’s face.

The man helps them both to sit up. “No.” Per only has a moment to feel stupid. “First, we assemble your team.” Ah, this is a _lesson_. He’s _supposed_ to be wrong.

In five minutes, Per is sitting calmly on his bed as the blonde, the big man, and the once-winged woman assemble before him. Mister Snart makes the introductions. “Sara, Mick, Kendra, you’ve all heard of Per Degaton.”

Kendra waves. “Hi.”

Sara shakes her head. “I still can’t believe—”

Mister Snart clears his throat and Sara subsides. “The kid needs new clothes,” Mister Snart says.

Kendra suggests fabricating them. Her assessing eyes make him think she’s already measured him and knows just what to make. But that isn’t the plan.

With a rumbling throat clearing, Mick captures the excited fashionista’s attention. “Snart wouldn’t have needed all of us for fabricatin’.” His head swivels on his neck like a mongoose. “This is a _job_.”

“Exactly,” says Mister Snart. His tone is tart, but he’s clearly pleased that someone understands.

His cheeks lose their tautness when Mick continues, “You and I don’t work jobs together anymore.”

“Awww, c’mon, Mick.” Sara wraps her arm through the big man’s with a friendly camaraderie that looks threatening, though how a little stick like her could threaten a hulk like that, Per isn’t sure. “It’s for the kid. It’ll be fun.”

Mick allows himself to be dragged into the scheming. “Stein’s shirtsleeves roll nicely,” he offers.

Kendra bites her lower lip and hunches her shoulders. “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” she says.

“It’s just an exercise in a controlled environment,” Mister Snart soothes her. “No one can get hurt.”

“What if we get caught?”

It’s a good question. Getting caught stealing in Kasnia is a crime punishable by death. And they’re traveling with a man who has an ATOM suit.

Mick huffs. “We’ve been caught”—he jerks a thumb between himself and Mister Snart—“but we’ve never served a full term.”

Sara now has her no-longer-threatening arm wrapped around Kendra’s shoulders. “This’ll be fun,” she says. “It’s a skill Len can teach, and that’s got to be better than leaving Per Degaton with Savage.”

Per’s stomach drops. Does Vandal miss him? It’s probably like Per’s been killed, and Vandal has moved forward to look after Kasnia. Per can trust him with _Kasnia_ , can’t he?

“Think of this like chess,” Mister Snart says. “We work on getting out of sticky situations while also getting the poor boy some clothes.”

Per straightens his spine. He is no one’s “poor boy.” But Kendra’s stance relaxes and she’s suggesting, “Ray shrinks his clothes sometimes with his suit. We could steal that first.”

“ _Birdie_!” exclaims Mick with a wide smile splitting his ruddy cheeks. He sounds so pleased the Per can’t help smiling along with him. A quick glance shows that Mister Snart is doing the same.

Per’s heart melts a little against his ribs. He’s done something right, and everyone is happy. Stealing things is clearly good for his subsection of the economy.

*

Mister Snart lets Per take the lead on questioning Kendra about Ray’s habits regarding his suit. The idea was hers, so she’s the best informant. Even better, she turns out to have insider information! When Per uncovers this fact, he surreptitiously checks with Mister Snart who gives him a proud nod.

Per learns all about how often Ray leaves their room and for how long usually. Mister Snart cuts in to ask whether Ray has any usual haunts at this time of day; perhaps he enjoys an afternoon coffee?

Once they have all the details, the team goes to lurk in the corridor outside Ray’s room. Mick watches the hallway in one direction, and Sara in the other. Per and Mister Snart hide around a corner while Kendra knocks on the door.

Ray steps out and his eyes widen when he sees his romantic partner. “You know you don’t have to knock,” he says. His eyes are confused like a puppy’s, but his mouth is wide and smiling.

Mister Snart taps at a blue metal wall panel. He whispers, “Gideon, are you with me? Two for yes.” The panel’s lights flash twice.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you if you were doing something important,” Kendra says. It doesn’t make any sense to Per. Her conciliatory tone soothes her lover, though, and he strokes her dual-tone hair.

“Do you want to come in?” he asks. “We could talk.”

That isn’t likely to get Ray out of the room. Per’s shoulders tense and he sucks in a deep breath of recycled air. But Mister Snart is loose and calm. “Gideon, plan C,” he whispers.

Kendra doesn’t need to come up with a response to the question because a feminine voice comes from all directions. “Doctor Palmer, your presence has been requested in the time drive room.”

“Huh,” he says, “I wonder who needs me. Gotta go.” He drops a tiny kiss to Kendra’s forehead and takes off past Sara.

The five conspirators meet together in front of Ray’s door.

Sara twirls a staff in her hands. Per didn’t see where she’d got it from. “That was lucky,” Sara says and thumps Kendra in the shoulder.

“Wasn’t luck,” Mick says.

Mister Snart pats the wall closest to him. “Thank you, Gideon.” And Sara breathes an _oh_ of understanding.

“You didn’t tell me about that,” Per says, trying to keep the accusation out of his voice. How is he meant to learn if Mister Snart hides half of his processes?

“I haven’t taught you to pick locks either,” Mister Snart says, “but that’s what I’m about to do now.” So Per is not expected to be able to anticipate everything, only to be proficient in what he’s already been taught. Still...

“You will show me later,” Per says.

“Of course.” The lopsided smile on Mister Snart’s face is a testament to the man’s intentions. He’s always planned to demonstrate lock picking techniques, and he is amused by Per’s attempts to lead the lesson plan. Vandal didn’t come back to everything he promised to cover, and Per has no doubt that Mister Snart could be the same. He has to keep his mentors honest. “How’re your ears, kid?”

“As good as anyone’s, I suppose.”

Nodding, Mister Snart directs Per to crouch with his ear against the lock to be picked. Apparently, his locksmithing lessons begin immediately.

Kendra knocks on the door above Per’s head, and he jumps back from the cold metal. She spares him an apologetic grimace, then puts her fists on her hips to chastise Mister Snart. “Why are we breaking and entering when I can walk in?”

Mister Snart’s fingers twitch around their tools like he wants to ignore her, but he shakes his head and motions Per back to his side. This is a lesson, after all. “First,” Mister Snart says, “we don’t want Ray to trace the break-in to you. Second, I’m showing my kid how all our talents intersect to pull off a successful job.”

Per dutifully puts his ear back against the door, though it chills the cartilage. He can hear delicate ticks and clicks in time with Mister Snart’s proddings.

A hot palm on the back of his head makes him rear back, but the hand is too big and strong to fight. Mick rumbles, “Let me readjust your position, kid. I know what he’s doing.”

Per’s flaming cheeks cool as the adrenalin rushes back out and he gives a tiny nod. The new position is much better. Now he gets ticks and clicks and a resounding thud-thunk right before the door opens. He’d heard it all, knows it took patient skill, and can’t wait until it was his turn to open doors. Every room is his room if possession was nine-tenths of the shares.

“Wow,” Per breathes. His new mentor is more hands on than Vandal, and he’s never wondered what that might be like until now. He won’t just be reading about Sun Tzu, he’ll be leading his own armies.

Mister Snart ruffles the short hairs on the top of Per’s head, then orders his crew. “Kendra, Sara, watch the corridor. Mick—”

“I’m gonna help toss the place,” says the big man. He spears Per with a very serious look and says, “It’s my specialty.”

Per has learned about comparative advantage from his father and the Conglomerate’s accountants. No matter how good Mister Snart might be at searching a room, Mick should also be included. Any chance for a person, company, or country to use its specialty creates the maximum utility for all parties involved.

Kendra clears her throat. “Don’t toss too much, please? I still live here.”

Mick’s smile is too humorless to be reassuring. Per doesn’t understand him at all, which is a lesson in and of itself, he supposes. But he’s not sur which lesson it is. Utilizing resources? Not everyone is predictable?

Vandal would never have let him believe no one was predictable.

Mister Snart and Mick have already entered the room, and Per trails them. It smells like sugar, stale flat bread, and freesia. Where a window should be, a digital skyscraper stands tall, but it’s an old one with black windows and rusting girders.

Mick is elbow deep in a drawer of cotton clothing when he pauses and says, “Aha!” he tosses something to Per.

Per catches it, but only barely. His reflexes aren’t what he’d like them to be.

Mister Snart notices the fumble and hums.

In his hands, Per has a smooth case about the right size for a pair of eyeglasses. Vandal likes to wear glasses sometimes, but their lenses aren’t meant for anything. “They help people to underestimate me,” Vandal told him when Per had asked about them.

“Hey! What are you doing in my room?”

Ray is in the doorway, big like a bear that raises its arms to take up more space. Behind him, Sara shrugs.

Per shoves the glasses case behind his back, but it’s too late. He’s already been caught and there’s nowhere to run. His heart stops and stutters back to life faster than ever. He has to hide! He can’t be caught stealing. The enforcers will get him. This man _is_ an enforcer! What was Per thinking when he agreed to this?

Mister Snart steps in front of him, shielding Per from any repercussions. “Do you _mind_? We’re in the middle of something here.”

“Oh. Right.” Ray lowers his arms and turns half into the corridor. “Sorry, I—”

“In the middle of stealing from you, Haircut.” Mick sounds almost fond. “Don’t think you need to apologize for that.”

“What?” Ray wheels around and turns his wounded gaze on his partner. “Kendra! Why are you helping them?”

She gives him a sheepish shrug, making her whole body look smaller in comparison to his. Her shoulders come in slightly; her chin ducks down before she looks up at him. Her knees bend for reduced height. The whole posture is perfectly calculated to make Ray feel protective of someone vulnerable. “I like kids?” Her voice fries up on the end like it’s a question, like she isn’t sure how he’ll take the answer.

It’s a masterful piece of manipulation, and Ray forgets all about the break-in and the stealing. He lends them his suit for clothing shrinkage and helps them to case Professor Stein’s place.

“Don’t forget, kid,” Mister Snart says, “Always verify your information.”

Per thinks he’s less likely to forget the way Kendra made herself into a person who needed help instead of jailing or death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no beta. :(


	3. How to Be a Cape (PR)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Per learns Spanish, plans a bank heist, and meets his first cape during a robbery of Star City Municipal Bank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to [Mary-of-Nine](http://mary-of-nine.tumblr.com/) who beta'd this (and the next two) segments. This fic makes more sense, thanks to her hard work.

Per has been on the Waverider for two weeks.

He’s stolen clothes and learned to chop vegetables to exact thicknesses. (Per practices biting carrots while he slices onions after Mister Snart says, “It takes the same amount of power to bite through a carrot as through a finger.”)

He’s played catch to improve his dexterity and sung lyrics to breakup songs in Spanish with an ever-improving accent. (Sara drops in once to tell Mister Snart that Mick says they aren’t to Spanish yet, and Mister Snart replies that Per already speaks fluent Turkish. While that is true—about the Turkish—the rest of it goes over Per’s head, and Mister Snart waves it away as unimportant, by which he means it’s personal.)

Per loves it here. He may not be powerful, but his power in Kasnia was borrowed from his father’s shares and his tutor’s reputation. Here, no one scrambles to get out of his way, but they all want to teach him their skills.

This comes in handy when Mister Snart has Per plan a bank heist. Mister Snart picks the location—Star City First Municipal in 2046. He says Per can have all the help he wants, and that he expects Per to impress him.

So Per does everything he can. He asks Gideon for help with the bank blueprints from her database. He has Ray show him about the security systems, and they spend hours recreating the bank’s alarms; the work is fiddly, but Per is good at twisting connections and he has steady hands.

Sara is from Star City and knows all the best hiding places. Jax will be the getaway driver in the jumpship. Professor Stein has agreed to play the harmless man in glasses (thank you, Vandal) who distracts any employees by opening a new account. Kendra pokes holes in his plans (why go during the day?) over a snack of saffron-rice. And Mick looks everything over in exchange for a glass-bottled beer that Gideon doesn’t give Per until he promises he doesn’t plan to drink it. (He’ll have to try one later.)

They all agree to come with him and play the parts he assigns—muscle, tech, getaway driver, communications, local expert.

Per doesn’t ask his former kidnapper for anything. He doesn’t like spending time with that man.

Per presents his plan to Mister Snart in Spanish and accompanied by a bowl of honey-cinnamon rice pudding. Mister Snart slips a spoon into his mouth and makes a pleased noise. He nods along with each diagram Per presents, slipping in short questions (“Y dónde está Kendra?”) and praise (“Magnífico,” he breathes when he sees that Per has chosen to put Mick next to a double-sealed vault and set fire between the two doors in order to change the pressure on the inner seal).

All three accomplishments (plan, Spanish fluency, pudding) take more work than Per has put into anything previously. No one lies that his early puddings are good when they aren’t. Jax and Ray help him with his Spanish-language presentation, but they won’t write it for him. The plan is entirely his own.

And Mister Snart approves of it all!

Per adds extra honey to his own rice pudding in celebration.

*

They hit the bank at four in the afternoon, late enough that people are tired and early enough that distractions and unlocked vaults are plausible. Per holds Sara’s hand, looking like a harmless kid as they head towards the safety deposit boxes. Professor Stein is doing his distracting best, while Mister Snart fills out deposit slips. Ray is on an upper floor, coming in from the roof and cutting the alarms.

Mick doesn’t go with them. He stays with Jax in the jumpship. “2046 isn’t as cool as I remember it,” he says. He won’t look at Mister Snart when he says it.

The set up takes forever, and Per’s hand sweats in Sara’s. The bank smells like lemon cleaning supplies and old paper that’s probably finished moldering while they’ve been waiting for the right moment.

Sara and Per are so close to the safety deposit boxes that they’re in range of the security guards.

The moment comes.

When the overhead lights flicker off (Ray’s signal), Sara lashes out at the two uniforms. She has them on the ground in seconds.

“Weak,” Per scoffs.

Sara knocks into his shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. “You can’t expect them to stand up to _me_.” When Per first saw Sara, she was on the wrong side of Vandal’s dagger. She can’t be _that_ tough. But there’s no sense in upsetting an ally, so he stays silent about this.

He and Sara are the spearheads into the vault, and Mister Snart soon catches up to them. His part is to open the outer seal so that Mick—

Mick stayed with the jumpship, humming “Duele El Amor” and avoiding 2046. He’s not here to change the pressure before the second seal.

Per is a failure. He hasn’t managed to rob this bank. Hasn’t even gotten to the gold bars and cash. He has two choices, give up or ask for help. “Mister Snart,” he says. He is going to have to admit defeat.

“Mmm?” Mister Snart turns disks, taps on the vault’s digital keycode.

Mister Snart obviously noticed the flaw in letting Mick stay behind (and may even have orchestrated it). Mister Snart notices everything, counts out all the steps and maps out his people’s positions. Even with Per running this bank heist, Mister Snart has the plan memorized.

He doesn’t seem worried, though. He’s going ahead with his part, limbs loose and parka unzipped. His cold gun is on the floor beside him, not at the ready in his hand.

Per is missing something.

An arrow swooshes through the air and plinks off the vault door next to Mister Snart. The silver metal takes a small dent and Sara stifles a giggle. Per jumps at the noise, heartrate rocketing. No no no! Even if the plan needed help, this is a major problem. Are they going to be killed by a justice enforcer? Have their haul taken from them by a rival gang?

Mister Snart turns around, hands above his head. “Congratulations. You caught us.” His voice is inflectionless. “However did you know?”

“Didn’t expect to see you in Star City, Snart.” The archer melts out of the shadows, green hood pulled far enough over his face that adults probably can’t see his features. Per has a better vantage point and can tell he’s a white male, older than Mister Snart, with a close trimmed beard and graying eyebrows.

“What can I say?” Snart manages to shrug with his hands in the air. “I was in the neighborhood.”

Sara waves to the green guy. “Hi, Ollie.”

“Damn it, Sara!”

“The cameras are down,” Mister Snart reassures. “No one heard her say that.”

“Right.” The green guy—Ollie—picks up his fallen arrow and shoves it back in his quiver. The motion puts him between Sara and Mister Snart, and Per is _sure_ they could take him, but they don’t even try. “I’m bringing you three to justice.”

Ollie marches them up the stairs, past the tiny drawers in the safety deposit room, over the moaning security guards, and back into the bank lobby. Whereupon the bank manager, employees, and customers break out into applause.

A spherical man in a purple-checked business suit cut low in the front rushes up. “Mister Green Arrow, may I have your autograph?”

“Of course,” says Ollie. “But first—” He then proceeds to give a lecture on responsibility in the modern age and how important it is to all get along.

Sara appears to be choking through much of this.

“After I sign these autographs,” he says, “I’m taking you three to the police station where you will face justice.”

When Ollie turns away from them to do the aforementioned autograph signing, Mister Snart pulls Per close against his side and makes a hand motion to Professor Stein who is still blending with the crowd.

“Oh! Oh!” Stein pumps his fist against his chest, making his brown tie flap. “I think I’m having a heart attack.” He falls over.

Then Mister Snart _picks Per up and throws him over his shoulder_. Sara dashes ahead of them and they run for the jumpship.

The ramp is down, and Mick is lounging against it whistling “Duele El Amor.” (The song is catchy. Per would know, since it was one of his Spanish language learning pieces.) When the three conspirators pound up the metal, Mick’s right behind them with his heat gun at the ready.

Inside, Ray and Jax have fingers nimble on the controls. Mister Snart dumps Per into a seat, fastens both their seatbelts, and says, “Let’s go.”

“What about Professor Stein?” Ray asks.

Per huffs at him. “Sometimes,” he explains, “there are acceptable losses.” It’s nice to know things, to be getting _something_ right today, and Per looks to Mister Snart for approval, but Mister Snart’s mouth has a deep frown and he grips his harness with tense fingers.

“While that’s true,” he says, “Professor Stein is not an acceptable loss in this case. Can anyone tell me why?”

“Because he’s our friend!” says Ray.

“No.”

“Because without him you can’t have Firestorm,” says Jax.

“A factor, but not what I’m thinking of,” says Mister Snart.

“Because if you abandon him, he’s never going to work with you again.” Mick says it like it’s just an observation, but he’s got his whole body pointed at Mister Snart like an accusation.

Sara raises her hand and chimes in, “Because no one will trust you as a mastermind if they think you’re going to leave them behind to get caught.”

Jax settles the jumpship onto the hospital roof, and Per hadn’t even known that was the destination. Mister Snart planned this extraction before they left the Waverider!

“I’ll go get our man,” says Mister Snart. He’s the first person down the ramp with Jax on his heels, and he’s got his back to Mick like he’s cutting him out. Like Mick could take a shot and Mister Snart wouldn’t do anything about it.

Per doesn’t think Mick _would_ attack Mister Snart. They work together so well, usually, but something in his voice earlier...

Mick’s hand comes down heavy on Per’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about the plan, kid. It was good. Capes are just a pain.”

 _Capes._ Mister Snart had said he didn’t kill kids or capes, but Per hadn’t met one before. “Ollie was a cape? He wasn’t wearing a cape?”

Ray snorts. “Don’t let him hear you call him that.”

A nickname just for Sara then, and one that Ray knows. Sara is _friends_ with a cape? The Waverider’s crew is a strange combination, but he was sure that Sara is more Mister Snart’s sort of people than Ray’s.

“And capes aren’t a pain,” says Ray. “They do good work, and people love them.”

Mick nods and hums like a motor that’s got rocks rattling around in it. “Vigilantes could do terrible things, worse’n me, but people love them and so they must be good.”

Was this a lesson in public relations?

“Star City is the Green Arrow’s city,” Sara says. “And he’s going to remember you now, Per. Maybe you shouldn’t come back here for a while.”

“A cape can hold a city?”

Mick looks down the ramp and adjusts his harness. “Villains can hold a city too,” he says.

Mister Snart ascends with Jax and Professor Stein behind him. Stein is saying, “Thank you for your consideration, young man, but I’m perfectly fine.”

“That’s why they wanted to keep you for observation, Gray?” Jax seems unconvinced.

Ray reaches out to clasp Stein’s hand. “Good to have you back, Professor.”

The heist hadn’t succeeded, but at least none of them are jailed or dead. And Per has seen one of these capes in action. He has to ask, “Mister Snart, do _you_ have a city?”

He doesn’t get an answer, which means he’ll have to find out on his own. Mister Snart never talks about personal things, but they do make fine training exercises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, about the Spanish breakup songs... the only one I name drop in this fic is "Duele El Amor." It's such a pop piece (and even has an 80s disco remix version!). A lovely duet between Aleks Syntek and Ana Torraja, it's possibly the most ColdWave breakup song I can think of. It's so passive-aggressive, and many of the lines are about hot/cold as they relate to rain. Heck, it starts with "I feel the humidity in me," and then gets way dramatic ("how will I survive the end????"). 
> 
> [The official video for "Duele El Amor"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VuDc8HQ3Rbg) (which I found for the purposes of linking here -- it has star backgrounds; it's perfect).


	4. How to Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Per learns to play poker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there's a dead body in this chapter. It's not a major character (she doesn't even get a name), but if reading about kids seeing dead bodies bothers you, this is the not the chapter to read.

Mister Snart decrees that Per must learn how to bluff. He says the best way to do this is to make it a game. Per isn’t sure games are the best teaching tools, but he does what Mister Snart instructs and quickly masters poker. Poker’s rules are simple compared to the chess that Vandal required of him.

Yet, Per constantly loses.

He doesn’t mind losing to Mister Snart. His chance to surpass his mentor will come someday. He also doesn’t mind losing to Mick. Mick is enough like Mister Snart that his losses don’t burn, and apparently Professor Stein is an expert at the game. But the rest of the crew should _not_ be able to best him. Even the terrorist kidnapper is a superior poker player, and Per had beaten _that_ man on the first day they’d met.

To fix these unexplainable losses, Mister Snart assigns Per the strangest drill he’s ever had: lie. Lie about everything.

And so he does.

In the kitchen where he’s making cocktails with Mick, his hands craft pinwheels out of lemons while his mouth says that lemons were originally a hybrid of oranges and kiwis. The juices sting tiny cuts on his fingers as Mick laughs. “C’mon, kid, you can do better than that.”

In the engine room with Jax, Per holds tools as long as his arm and as short as a fingernail. He tells Jax that Stein wants to see him on the bridge. Jax pauses in tightening a bolt, closes his eyes, and is silent for seven seconds. (Per counts because it’s what Mister Snart would do.) Jax says, “You shouldn’t tell lies.”

Of course that’s untrue. Per absolutely _should_ tell lies. It’s his homework. But how did Jax know?

In the storage room where Sara and Mister Snart are playing poker, Per turns an apple on a spit to peel it. He tells Sara he got this apple from Ray who said that apples are better than toothbrushes. Sara doesn’t even look up from her cards when she says, “That may or may not be true, but I wouldn’t believe Ray said it.”

In their shared quarters, Per gets ready for bed. He brushes his teeth and washes his hands and tells Mister Snart, “I told six lies today, and two people believed me.”

Mister Snart passes him the floss and catches Per’s grip. He looks deep into Per’s eyes. Slowly, he asks, “Really?”

And Per knows—he _knows_ —that the right answer is “yes, of course,” but he casts his gaze down to the floss and sighs. “No.” His shoulders slump. He remembers being confident back in Kasnia, remembers the feeling of having all the power in any exchange.

This is better.

*

Mister Snart takes pity on him. “You know,” he says one morning in the kitchen when Per munches on an apple and Ray sneaks a rainbow-colored cereal, “if you’re going to play poker, you should practice it in the Wild West.”

Ray bounces in his plastic chair, eager to join the conversation. His hair flops against his head, and sugar-coated bran crumbs fly from his mouth as he exclaims, “Yes!”

Which is how they team up to convince the kidnapper to visit a little town called Salvation.

*

It’s January in Salvation, chilly and raining. The whole crew stalks the muddy streets like a criminal gang. Per’s coattails flutter with every step he takes, and Ray has a distinct swagger in his step. A horse whinnies, and a wet manure cart offers up its fragrance to the afternoon.

It’s been a month since Per learned the rules of poker, and he’s improved at both lying and winning. Sometimes he can beat Sara, but only when she’s exhausted from both her training and his own. (Mister Snart once asked if he’d _liked_ gymnastics, then asked Sara to tutor him in judo.)

Mick is the first one into the saloon. He sets a hand on each swinging door and pushes. When he pauses in the entryway, Per almost bumps into him.

Inside the saloon, his eyes adjust to gloom. Men sit around circular tables, wearing brown leather from head to toe and holding five cards each in their hands. Women in fluffy dresses swish past the bar. The air is full with cigar smoke and alcohol fumes. Everyone is covered in a layer of grime that turns their varied skin tones darker and makes yellowing stains on their clothes.

The grime reminds Per that he has left Kasnia. But it isn’t as horrible as he thought it would be.

A man at the bar turns to check over the newcomers. Scars on the side of his face look like demonic tendons. “Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he says.

Per’s kidnapper replies, “I didn’t expect you’d still be here.”

The scarred man quirks an eyebrow then looks past the kidnapper to the rest of Mister Snart’s friends. “If you’re here, should we expect trouble?”

Mister Snart puts a hand on Per’s shoulder. “We’re teaching my boy to play poker. Would you care to try your luck?”

The scarred man brushes past Per’s kidnapper without making eye contact. Their coats both sway from the touch. “My name is Jonah Hex,” says Jonah Hex. “Come sit with me.” He leads Per to a round table that soon fills with four others: Ray, Professor Stein, and two contemporaries.

The cards feel strange in Per’s hands, thick and rough. (Mister Snart whispers in his ear, “They’re pasteboard, kid.”) It doesn’t matter what they’re made of. Per is going to win. He’s going to do Mister Snart proud. He glares at his King-high nothing and tries not to sigh or tug his earlobe, which Sara warned him against.

Per has raised a dollar to Jonah Hex’s fifty cents when a serving woman swishes over. She smells of heavy amber perfume, and Per wants to bury his nose in her cloying skirts because it’s so much better than the eye-watering tobacco smoke. “What can I get you gentlemen?” she asks the table at large.

When it’s Per’s turn, he says, “I’ll have a whiskey and soda.”

She shakes her head. “I’ll bring you a tonic water,” she says.

Per turns pleading eyes to Mister Snart, but he knows he’s on his own even before his mentor says, “As far as I’m concerned, you can drink whatever you convince her to bring you.”

Per gestures to his obvious guardian, but the serving woman isn’t looking. He’ll have to make do with tonic water.

Mister Stein starts another round of betting.

Ray calls.

Jonah Hex calls.

The contemporary to Per’s left says, “I’ll raise you a camel.”

“A _camel_ ,” says Ray. His eyes are so wide there’s a ring of white around the irises. Ray gets excited by many things, but not his hand (Per _notices_ things even if his own lying skills are now only novice-level instead of remedial).

Professor Stein moves into lecture mode. “Yes, Raymond. Camels were—are—very popular in this period. They were imported from Egypt for their hardiness on long westward migrations.”

“A _camel_ ,” Ray says again, this time with an air of pleased covetousness. He wants a camel. Of course he does. He hasn’t thought about where he’s going to put a camel on the Waverider.

The contemporary with the camel confirms, “Y’all letting me bet the camel?”

A chorus of “yes” comes from Ray and Professor Stein. Per and Jonah Hex both shrug, and Mister Snart holds out his empty hands to remind everyone that he’s not actually playing the game and so his opinion is meaningless.

The contemporary and his friend both grin. It’s the kind of grin Mick gets right before he convinces Gideon to do something that will upset the kidnapper. Per is relatively sure he doesn’t want anything to do with these camels.

Ray wins the hand. He also wins the next. Three hands in, Per has a full house—kings over nines—and there are six camels in the pot.

Per folds hastily.

When the rest of the cards hit the table, one of the contemporaries has won, and he’s not happy about it. “Just one more,” he says.

But Ray excuses himself to go have a chat with the sheriff. “This has been fun, guys,” he starts. When he stands, the contemporaries’ guns come out.

“Sit down and play,” says the man at Per’s left.

Ray sits.

Mister Snart nudges Per’s shoulder downwards, and Per lets himself be folded in his chair. “I don’t think the man’s interested in cards,” Mister Snart says.

“I don’t care,” says Per’s left-hand man.

“You can take his place,” the other contemporary says, swinging his gun to point in Mister Snart’s direction.

That’s a mistake.

Mister Snart has a placid look on his face. He’s still slouching in his wooden seat, but now Per can see the cold gun underneath the chair. “Kind of you to offer,” he says.

Sara punches the guy in the head from behind, and she catches his gun when it flips up towards the ceiling. “These guys bothering you?”

The whole place is watching now. Silent.

Then Mick at the bar says, “I got left out the last time,” and he punches the bartender in the face.

After that, everything is a blur. Mister Snart pushes Per fully beneath the table. Hammers cock and gunpowder roars. Sara picks up the table Per is using for cover and snaps off two of its legs for weapons; while it’s out of his way, he sees that Mick and Mister Snart are standing back to back. Their blue and red flames take out anyone who might get too close to Per’s now-precarious hiding place.

Meaty bodies thunk to the hardwood floor. They groan and bleed, except for one woman who has a cauterized black hole between her eyes.

From the way Sara and Mick talk about bar fights, they’re supposed to be fun and life affirming.

Whoever shot that woman hasn’t heard the same stories he has.

Per has never been so close to death. He doesn’t know this woman, but he thinks it’s unfair that she won’t get to stand up again when that wretched camel-better is still swinging. He wants to go to his room on the Waverider where everything is clean and he still has a Spanish-language assignment to finish.

Maybe he’s not meant for this kind of life.

Vandal wouldn’t have exposed him to something like this.

And that thought snaps his mind out of its shocked state. He can’t give up. He can’t be Vandal’s pupil again. He has Mister Snart. He trusts Mister Snart. This must be something he needs to see. Per’s shoulders ache from holding up the table with its missing two legs, and his heart aches for the woman with her life-thread cut short by the Fates.

The lesson: real life isn’t as clean and simple as his father and Vandal made it seem.

*

The brawl ends with half the bodies staggering home and the other half stumbling to the bar for more alcohol. A man in black collects the fallen woman’s corpse.

Mister Snart pulls Per into the chair beside him and slides an arm around his shoulders, holding him close without looking too much like either of them need comfort.

Ray sits across from them with a dirty rag pressed to his bleeding cheek, and Professor Stein moans into the table beside him. The rest of the crew—Mick, Sara, Jax, Kendra, and the kidnapper—are doing shots with Jonah Hex at the bar. A serving woman has per breasts pressed against Jax’s arm, and he looks more alarmed than pleased by it. Mick and Sara clink glasses before each shot.

Per has to keep watching them. Needs to catalogue every movement. Or else he’ll think about that woman. She’s not there anymore. She’ll never have movements to catalogue again.

The saloon doors swing open and three men in tall hats with brims even more curved than Mister Snart’s call out for “Sheriff Wayne!”

Ray puts down his rag and stands. “Can I help you, gentlemen?”

Per whispers to Mister Snart, “I thought his family name was Palmer?” Like Sidney.

“Nothing wrong with a fake name, kid,” Mister Snart whispers back.

“We got a problem for you to deal with, Sheriff.”

Ray reaches for his black hat and matching coat before even asking what the problem might be. “Of course I’ll do anything I can.”

The leading local chews on nothing and spits into a canister beside the door. Per hadn’t noticed the vessel when they came in. “We’re representing the ranch owners of Salvation, and you have a camel infestation to fix up.”

Per is pleased he made the right choice in refusing to win the camels. They’re Ray’s problem twice over: once as sheriff and once as their owner.

No one mentions that Ray might possess rights to the problem camels, but Professor Stein makes the mistake of suggesting, “We could tempt the camels with bushels of apples!”

Everyone in hearing range turns to stare at Professor Stein.

The lead local scoffs, “Where would you get apples in January?”

A serving woman laughs. “Honey, are you feeling all right?”

Professor Stein should have taken those cues. Even Per, who has realized his socialization needs work, recognizes that these statements mean people here don’t have access to apples when they’re not locally in season. But the man says, “It’s not a problem.”

Professor Stein is an expert at poker, but that’s not the only skill a person needs. Per would know.

*

Per doesn’t expect Professor Stein to be kidnapped.

Mister Snart leaves Per at the saloon and asks the bartender to look after him. “It’s only because I love Jax that I’m helping out,” Mister Snart apologizes before he leaves. “Not my mastermind, not my problem.”

Per is pretty sure it’s more quid pro quo even if Mister Snart doesn’t say so. Perhaps _especially_ because Mister Snart doesn’t say so. If he or Mister Snart had been kidnapped, they’d want the others to cooperate on their rescue too.

After one last shoulder squeeze from Mister Snart and a very grown-up nod from Mick, Per is alone at the bar. He sits on a wooden stool, sips tonic water, and tries not to look over to where the dead woman’s body used to be.

Partially as a distraction and partially as practice, he spins a story for the bartender.

_Once upon a time, there was a little boy—let’s call him Per Degaton—who had a mother, a father, and a little sister. Per Degaton lived in a beautiful country house, surrounded by gardens, and rarely saw anyone other than his family._

_Then one day, the little sister returned from a trip to town—selling milk—with a handful of magic beans. She cooked the beans up in a stew, but her older brother didn’t want to eat them. He said they smelled icky, when what he really meant was that he didn’t want his parents to love his productive sister more than they loved him._

_After a few hours, after his sister went to bed, Per Degaton’s parents fell over where they stood. Per poked at them and poked at them, but they didn’t wake up. They didn’t move._

_He cried over their bodies, but he had to be strong. His parents were clearly dead—he wasn’t a baby; he could admit it to himself—and he had to take care of his little sister now. He decided to let her sleep till morning._

_When he tried to shake her awake in the dawn light, her lips were blue and eyes permanently closed. The beans had been magic, all right._

By the time Mister Snart returns and laughingly tells Per how “shooting apples off kidnappers’ heads is fun,” the bartender is sniffling over this completely fictional account and has spiked Per’s soda with a splash of whiskey.

They clink glasses, and Per thinks he sees approval in Mister Snart’s eyes.

He has nightmares about the dead woman, all the same.


	5. How to Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Per goes "home."

Salvation’s streets churn with mud and rain, but the period’s oversized hats keep the wet out of Per’s eyes as the ship’s complement convoys from town to Waverider.

Professor Stein repeatedly bumps shoulders with Jax at said convoy’s head. Closest to Firestorm, the kidnapper squishes boots to ground, as is his right as ship’s captain (though his gaze darts ever to the side where Jonah Hex keeps pace without being a part of their procession). Kendra and Sara tangle their hands in horses’ reins and jibe with Professor Stein about his close call. Mick snorts to rival the horses and says he’s looking forward to an era with cars and C4.

While all of that happens ahead of them, Per and Mister Snart walk in semi-seclusion behind the others. Mister Snart has been away from Per for _hours_ on the professor’s rescue, hours during which he may not have come back.

They have a system. Whenever Mister Snart returns from a mission, they catch up with one another. Per must prove his studies have gone to plan.

“What should I do with the local money I’ve earned?” asks Per, more to show off his skills at winning poker than because he’s unsure of the answer. The coins and bills can be a keepsake if nothing else.

The curl of Mister Snart’s mouth shows he understands the implications. “No camels for you?” he teases.

Per’s chest warms with the tacit recognition of his achievements. “I am sure the Waverider could not hold my twelve camels,” says Per. Of course he won camels. Nothing said he had to take them with him, however. The beasts would be fine in Salvation and its outlying satellites.

Per blames the rain’s pounding against his hat, reverberating in his ears, for why he doesn’t hear the squelching footsteps until it’s too late. Until there’s a thick arm around his stomach and a sharp knife pressed into his throat.

The arm is smaller than Mick’s. The knife is duller than Sara’s. But Per knows his captor is deadly serious. His breath is rank with months of meat in an era that doesn’t believe in toothbrushes. “I want my money back,” the man says. He jabs his weapon under Per’s chin as he says it.

Since Per is the only member of the convoy to play poker since the brawl, he’s pretty sure his assailant is after him rather than leverage over the others. This isn’t fair. He _won_!

Per says, “My friends do not negotiate with _thieves_.” It’s the strongest principal of the Kasnia Conglomerate. Allowing outside actors to affect Kasnia’s economy would be unthinkable.

He tries to forget that Mister Snart is a thief by trade. Everyone must have a trade, after all. Besides, since Per has been with him, Mister Snart has been more soldier than criminal. Soldiering is noble. It is good for a country’s survival. For the _world’s_ survival, in some cases.

Mister Snart’s cold, cold eyes narrow. “Sorry to lose you like this, kid,” he says and shakes his head.

Per would nod his agreement at the practicality of this statement except that the knife’s point would dig further into his flesh. So Per doesn’t nod, and on reflection, maybe he doesn’t _want_ to. The whole group had worked to save Professor Stein; couldn’t they find a way to steal Per from his menacing new captor?

Professor Stein has a hand out, like he’s going to reach for Per. “He’s just a child!”

The man pulls Per back hard, away from that reaching hand, and it’s like a bar across his middle. Per chokes, but keeps from squirming too much.

“How much did he take from you?” Mick asks from behind the horses.

Per and his captor both scout for exactly where the voice originated.

Per hears an electronic whine on his left where Mister Snart is. The captor’s attention is still off to the right, and then the captor’s body seizes to stillness.

Before the knife can skip, Sara has it in her hand.

Before frost can coat Per as well as his attacker, Mick shatters the man’s arm at its shoulder and frees Per from his prison.

Oh. They were never planning to leave Per at all. Not to pay off this failed extortionist. This maneuvering... _This_ is what he should have wanted from his father and from Vandal that fateful day he’d last been kidnapped. Father had been too willing to give in, and Vandal had been too willing to cut his sunk costs. They both picked the wrong extremes when cleverness was on offer.

Mister Snart wraps an arm around Per’s shoulders, warding off any potential chill creeping from the cold gun’s proximity. His eyes hide behind goggles, but Per warms with affection he can’t see when Mister Snart says, “No one hurts my Rogues but me.”

Mick bumps into Per from the other side, accepting his status as “a Rogue.”

Sara bounces beside them, tossing her new knife into the air and catching it. “Awwww,” she coos. Toss, catch. “Will there be cake?”

It’s sweet and heartfelt. This family-bonding should be a homecoming, a permanent acknowledgement of who he is. Of _whose_ he is. But Per isn’t really a Rogue. No matter what else can be said, he’s still _the_ majority shareholder in Kasnia Conglomerate. That comes with responsibilities. He can’t just hide from his kingdom like Aragorn in that set of novels Mister Snart made him read in English, German, and Quenya.

*

Per is sixteen when he returns to his own time, two years after leaving it behind. He is fluent in eleven languages, a black belt in three martial arts, familiar with all sorts of battle strategies and more sorts of cons. He is a talented poker player, a decent chess player, and has too many allergies to be an outdoor sports player.

The jumpship is cloaked and resting on a helipad across from Kasnia Conglomerate headquarters. Mister Snart is the only one in it with him. Per made the rest of his goodbyes on the Waverider.

He should open the door. He should step out into the sunshine and be recognized by the technologists who ensure everyone’s enhanced reality glasses function correctly. He should apologize for abandoning his father.

Per stays in his chair, fiddling with the fibrous harness.

“Remember when we talked about Oedipus Rex?” Mister Snart says, apropos of nothing.

Per knows there’s a lesson here somewhere. Mister Snart’s stories always start in strange places, and they never go where he expects even after all this time. “Mm-hm,” Per says.

“ _Some_ people think it’s about destiny and the lack of free will. Others will tell you it’s all about prophecies. But we know what’s really going on.” Mister Snart levels him with what can only be called a _conspiratorial look_ , like Per is an adult now and no longer his mentee. Maybe it’s true. He says, “Oedipus’ old man messes everything up because he won’t tell people what’s going on. Well, we haven’t made that mistake with you.”

They haven’t. Mister Snart, Mick, Ray, Professor Stein, Jax, Kendra, and Sara each took him aside at some point during his first year on their ship—separately because none of them thought the others would want them to do it—and told Per all about how he’d come to be with them. Told Per how they’d intended to maroon him in time or to kill him because he was famous for doing bad things in the future.

Since it didn’t matter what they did with him in the end, they had meant to return him to his father. It hadn’t worked out that way.

“I glad you came with us instead of staying here, kid.”

Per slips out of his harness and does something he’s never done before and may never have the chance to do again. He flings himself into Mister Snart’s lap like a small child. “I have to go back now, though,” he says. His voice doesn’t shake, but his fingers worm beneath the parka where it’s warm. “I have to save the people who might die if Vandal is left to lead. I have to exercise my power because those shares are my birthright.”

Mister Snart’s right hand comes up and pets Per’s hair, short as it’s always been. They like to match. “We’ll miss you,” Mister Snart says. Then he shoves Per upright and lowers the jumpship’s ramp for him. “ _I’ll_ miss you.”

*

Per goes home, and it’s strange, but so familiar.

Much to Vandal’s frustration, Per does not release “the virus.” Instead, he creates an advertising campaign that stretches beyond Kasnia’s borders and preaches the evils of overpopulation. People line up for sterilization in drug form. Only Per’s favored few procreate.

His father lives until Per turns twenty, at which point Per inherits more shares than anyone has had for decades. All is peaceful.

The Palmer enforcers keep crime to a new low (helped by Per’s own modeling, trained at Mister Snart’s expert side). These are “golden years” that Mister Snart and his friends would hate, but which are the right thing for Kasnia.

Per trains his successor personally, not willing to employ tutors with their own agendas. When he dies, he knows his shares will be used for the good of Kasnia Conglomerate and its citizens. When the Thanagarians come, Per is long dead, but his legacy continues. The world bands together under shareholder agreements and free trade alliances. A coalition of companies beats back the alien invaders instead of Savage’s footsoldiers.

Kasnia waves her corporate flag high. Triumphant to the last.

THE END  


**Author's Note:**

> It's my view that the show's events are happening, but no way is Len letting Per come along on missions. He's a kid! He's protected from all that stuff. This probably doesn't go past Salvation actually. Just assume everything takes a lot of time.
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://cleverqueen.tumblr.com/). While I've acquired a beta for this fic, if you'd like to beta in the future, I'd be thrilled.


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